This essay as told is based on a conversation with Sara Wilczynska, founder of Swil Arts Studio. She left her job as a software engineer at Google, spent a year traveling with her partner, and discovered watercolors in Thailand. His words have been edited for length and clarity.

I was born in Warsaw in the 80s, when Poland was still a communist country. I remember witnessing the shift towards capitalism.

I earned a master’s degree in computer science from the University of Warsaw, interned in Barcelona, ​​and studied abroad in Edinburgh.

When I was 25 I moved to London to work as a software engineer at an investment bank. I stayed for almost five years, but even then, there was a quiet voice in the background asking me if this was really what I wanted to do.

I started working at Google in 2015.

I joined Google in Zurich and felt like I was one step closer to something more meaningful. After about a year and a half, I got my US visa and was transferred to New York, where I worked in the search engine’s news section.

On paper, my career was everything I had worked for. Google was flexible, supportive, and full of brilliant people. I had autonomy over my work, from projects to my physical workplace, and the benefits were incredible.

My days included programming, meetings, but also yoga classes, gym sessions, gourmet birthday meals, and even subsidized massages. There was also stability: a good salary and stock options.

That’s also what made it so difficult to leave.

Later, as my career progressed (I was promoted twice within Google), there was more high-level work, a lot of stakeholder meetings, and less hands-on coding work.

I started to feel disconnected. A growing feeling that the pace was not sustainable for me. That constant stimulation (screens, deadlines, notifications, expectations) was taking me away from myself.

Six years later, during the pandemic, I moved to San Diego with my partner, Valentina.

something changed

It was living in San Diego that forced me to slow down. There was nature everywhere—the ocean, the desert, the mountains—and suddenly I had space to pause.

I started noticing little things again. The aroma of jasmine on a warm afternoon. The simple pleasure of eating a fish taco. That realization made it impossible to ignore the misalignment in my work.

At first I tried to fix it without leaving. I trained in sound healing and did sessions. I took on different projects at Google, including leading diversity and inclusion initiatives. I even reduced my work hours.

None of that fully addressed the core sentiment. I remember thinking, “Am I being too demanding? Am I asking for too much?” Because objectively there was nothing wrong with my job. It was not toxic. I respected my colleagues.

At some point, I understood that a job can tick all the boxes (it may seem perfect on paper), but if something deeper is missing, it’s not enough.

Even then, leaving wasn’t easy. One of the biggest challenges was not knowing what would come next. I kept thinking I needed a plan. A clear and logical next step.

But I eventually realized that waiting for certainty was simply keeping me stuck.

So my partner and I made a decision that seemed radical to me at the time. I left my job at the end of 2022 (Valentina’s job had been eliminated the year before) and we decided to travel for a year. We rented our apartment in San Diego and went on a trip.

That year everything changed

We spent most of 2023 in Southeast Asia, with shorter trips to Australia and New Zealand. At first we moved quickly, but eventually we slowed down. We spent six months on Koh Tao, a small island in Thailand.

Life there seemed simple. My partner worked as a dive master and I had something I hadn’t experienced in years: unstructured time.

That’s when I picked up the watercolors. I didn’t have any formal training. I was just drawn to it. I started taking online classes, drawing scenes from the island: fruit stands, views of the town, small everyday moments.

I started sharing my work on local community Facebook groups in Koh Tao. I wasn’t expecting much, but people started contacting me on Facebook, not only to compliment the work, but also to buy it. They were like, “This perfectly captures my memory of this place.”

When our year of travel ended, I decided to commit to art. Not because I had everything figured out, but because I no longer wanted to ignore that attraction. We expanded our flexible lifestyle (sitting houses across the United States to reduce living costs) and I began building my studio, Swil Arts, in San Diego, from the ground up.

Now, that’s where I create original watercolor illustrations. I then reproduce them as illustrated products, including prints and homewares.

My days are very different now. I spend the mornings painting, the afternoons on the business side, managing client communications, website content and business strategy. I earn my income through direct-to-consumer retail sales, wholesale partnerships with boutiques, and custom art commissions for both individuals and brands.

Although we are not at the level of my previous income, we are still a young company. Success is completely different now. It’s not about productivity or production. It’s about impact. If one person pauses because of my work (if he feels something, remembers something), that’s enough.